A Quest for Revenge
by Do The Cool Whip
Summary: Every five centuries, a tournament is held in order to determine the fate of the world. The Shaman Tournament, will begin once again with new competitors taking their place in history. One spirit, craves revenge against his foe as he trains his Shaman to be the perfect killer. Revenge is not a new concept at this tournament; however, it has never been so gruesomely planned before.


Disclaimer: I don't own Yuugiou or Shaman King.

His muscled ached.

His chest heaved as he struggled to remain on his feet. Staggering slightly, he brushed silky silver locks that were drenched in sweat out of his face. Bright green eyes hardened as he took a deep breath, and slid into a balanced stance.

"You're feet should be shoulder width apart." The ghostly whisper trickled into his ear.

"Yes, Bakura." Spreading his legs farther, he tightened his grip on the pair of khopesh in each of his hands. He focused trying to imagine the curved blade in his mind. He did his best to recreate the intricate gold designs in the bronze blade. The way it swirled and twisted its way from the handle and gracefully follow the slight bend in the blade. The blade was only two feet long, and if he remembered correctly, the tip was angled to point back at him.

"Now, do it again. If you don't fuck up, we can take an early break." The voice came from in front of him this time.

"Yes, Bakura." He took another deep breath, and a frigid breeze rushed past him, causing his hair to whip behind him, it twisted and turned in the wind, and he had to remind himself not to be distracted by it.

"Ignore it. This is why I told you to tie that fucking mess up, or chop it the fuck off!" The spirit was angry now, he noted.

Clenching his jaw, he swallowed the squeak that wanted to escape his throat. "Yes, Bakura."

"Well, what are you waiting for? Do it!"

"Yes, Bakura." He took another deep breath, before throwing both of the khopesh high into the air. Twirling around twice, he clapped his hands three times, before reaching out to catch his weapons.

"You little fuck up!" the spirit roared.

Nothing came back down.

Opening his eyes, Ryou stared off to his left where one of his swords had landed; the other lay a few feet in front of him. He dropped his head and stared at the dirt after a few moments.

He was going to be out here all night.

"Don't just stand there and waste time! Do it again!"

"Yes, Bakura." he choked and scrambled to grab both of the blades.

He continued to do the exercise over and over again.

When the rain started to pour out of the dark sky, and drenched him from head to toe, he resisted the urge to ask for something warm to wear.

When the lightning began, causes light to flash over the trails of water streaming down his face, he resisted the urge to ask for a weapon made out of plastic.

And when the winds picked up, biting into his skin with its frigid temperature, he resisted the urge to ask for mercy.

"Useless, shit." Bakura snarled, eyes narrowed as he watched the khopesh land on the ground once more. He approached the shivering wreck of a boy in front of him, the wind and rain passed through his body to batter the smaller teen. "Get up, go inside, change, then eat. If you stay out any longer, you'll catch your death."

The boy looked at him, eyes darting at him then the house constantly, before they settled on him finally. His lip slipped out from between his teeth, and slowly stretched into a small smile. "Yes, Bakura."

Rising to his feet, the boy tightened his grip around the weapons once more. His feet slid apart exactly shoulder's width apart, as he fell into a balanced stance. He inhaled, his mind tracing the lines of the scene around him, as his eyes drifted shut. He tossed the khopesh into the air.

He could see them spinning in the air behind his closed lids, he spun on his heel as the blades completed their first rotation. Again, he whipped around in a circle, and the blades finished a second revolution, they were plummeting straight down now.

One clap. They were three feet away. Another clap. They were two and a half feet away. The final clap. They weren't lined up with his hands.

His left hand reached out in front of him, and his right hand stretched off to the side.

He caught the first blade awkwardly. The inside curved piece of metal, didn't quite fit in his left hand, and the sharp outer edge bit into his fingertips. The other sword came down blade first, but he did not flinch as his hand split open and blood leaked through his fingers, worsening his already slippery grip. The sword fell to the ground, the sound of its impact timed perfectly with a loud crack of thunder.

He stared at it.

He knew a failure when he saw one.

Blank red eyes stared at him. He turned his back, and took his first step away.

"Good job, Ryou. You're making progress. We'll continue tomorrow."

A brilliant smile seared across his face and he whipped around to look at the spirit. "Of course, Bakura, I'll keep practicing! I won't let you down!" He turned on his heel, the motion smooth and perfect from hours of practicing, and darted into the house.

A chilling smirk covered the spirit's lips. "No, you won't, Ryou." His dark chuckles began to fill the area as lightning flashed through the sky. "You'll grow strong, strong enough to qualify for the Shaman Tournament. And when we're there, you will kill the pharaoh's partner, and I will finally have my revenge!"

**TBC?**

… I swear I didn't start two more fics… You people are crazy.

Please don't judge me. This is Yuugiou in a Shaman King universe! It's practically begging to happen! It's basically canon, in a none-canon like way…

Besides, I'm working on Arranged Catastrophe, I have the whole idea for the next chapter planned out… in my head. And, I've got like a whole page or two of Reverse Psychology written… out of like eight. But, still a whole page or two! Oh yeah, plus I have like a page of The Boyfriend Competition, and So Not According to Plan written as well. But, those are other projects I wasn't supposed to start, so pretend that you never read that.

It's not my fault! I'm bored! I need something to do! Stop judging me!


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